


Game of Love and Lust

by Lion_owl



Series: Angels Survive [1]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Dukat is an arsehole, Dukat is desperate, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Gen, I always believed Kira came to actually like Garak later in the series, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Minor canon divergence, Pranks, Season/Series 06, Ziyal is alive!, set early to middle series 6
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-22
Updated: 2016-10-22
Packaged: 2018-08-24 00:39:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8349427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lion_owl/pseuds/Lion_owl
Summary: Dukat is being as annoying as ever, so Kira, Bashir and Garak decide to play a little prank.It's all fun and games to begin with, but things never end well where Dukat is concerned.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not even sure where this idea came from it just kind of appeared in my mind. Not the best title, I know, it's saved on my computer under the working title "Dukat is an arsehole" but I had to come up with something last minute for posting it. I'm really pleased with the story, though, and I hope you all enjoy it!

"The way I see it, you don't want to admit you're in love with me," Dukat was saying, the arrogance in his voice had notched up since his new alliance had practically handed him the Cardassian Union. It didn't apparently matter that he’d now lost control of that alliance, he was almost worse now than he had been in his final years as prefect of Bajor. "So you're using Ziyal as an excuse to get close to me."

" _Love_ you?" Kira snorted "Don't flatter yourself. Perhaps I was almost beginning to not _despise_ you just before you went and joined the _Dominion_ " Kira spat that last word, and got up yet again to move to another table, hoping he would take the hint. As expected, he moved again to sit opposite her. So she added: "Besides, don't you think you're a bit old for me?"

"You didn't seem to find age a problem when you were encouraging my daughter to sleep with _Garak_ " it was his turn to spit, as though the tailor's name burned on his tongue.

"They're not sleeping together," she told him, which was true. "Garak _thinks_ that's what she wants – and it makes him uncomfortable – but she doesn't, and anyway he's involved with someone else."

She'd never have expected it years ago, but she had actually felt relieved when Julian had told her about their relationship, mostly because she had initially had the same concern Dukat was currently expressing about Garak's intentions towards the younger woman.

"Is that so?" Dukat leaned forward, clearly interested in learning this little piece of information; probably so he could find some way to taunt Garak with it later. "And who would that be?"

She leaned forward too, and just because she knew how much it would annoy Dukat, said: "That would be me."

She picked up her padd and left him with a scandalised look on his face that she knew the memory of which would amuse her for the rest of the afternoon, and made her way up to ops. Half an hour later Dukat entered and stomped past her to Sisko's office. She couldn't hear what he was saying but she could hear the irritated tone with which he was saying it. The Captain, of course, was as calm as ever, and that only served to further rile up the ex-Gul.

When he left the office, again stomping and this time shaking his head as well, he made his way to Kira's station and leaned far too close for comfort. "You know I'm not in the Dominion anymore," he pointed out.

"Not by choice," she scoffed. It was true. Damar's attempt to kill Ziyal, though fortunately unsuccessful, had not exactly been viewed as favourable by Dukat, who had relieved his old comrade of all his duties. Weyoun, in turn, was of the opinion that Dukat had grown soft as a result of his interactions with Kira, had promoted Damar to Legate and ordered the Dominion ships to leave the now effectively exiled Dukat behind on the station. Garak had, of course, taken a certain delight in the fact that after all these years of being mocked for his unfortunate fall from grace, his adversary had landed in the same predicament - and Kira could hardly blame him.

"I don't care, anyway, I'm happy with him," she said, deliberately leaving out who 'he' was, given where they were. In truth, she'd recently realised she was in love with Odo.

"Hmph," Dukat stomped off again and exited ops without another word - she had no idea how his arrogance had held up this time, but she hoped the thought of her with Garak had seriously bruised his ego.

"What was _that_ about?" Jadzia wanted to know as soon as he was gone, and everyone else in the room had stopped what they were doing to listen to her answer.

"Oh, nothing," she shrugged and made her way over to the lift, commanding it to take her to the infirmary – it was probably time to own up.

 

“Is Doctor Bashir here?” she asked Jabara when she arrived.

“He’s in his office,” the nurse informed her. “Can I help you with anything?”

“It’s – an ops matter,” she lied, not wanting to tell the nurse about all of this, and crossed the room to the office door, pressing for entry. It slid open.

“Major, what a pleasant distraction,” Bashir looked up from his computer and rubbed his eyes. “To what do I owe?”

He stood up and went to the replicator, ordering a raktajino for her and a red leaf tea for himself. How he could like that stuff, she didn’t know, but she supposed it came with the territory.

“Thanks,” she accepted the drink. “Actually, I have a confession to make.”

“You do?” he asked, then, slowly, almost cautiously: “go on?”

Quickly she filled him in on her conversation with Dukat, and when she was done he burst out laughing.

“That’s brilliant,” he grinned.

“You think so?” she had to admit to just a little bit of surprise at that.

“The woman he’s attracted to is supposedly dating his most despised enemy, he’s got to hate that.”

“But he ought to know he never stood a chance with me.” She protested, then: “I don’t know why he’s even interested, we don’t have anything in common.”

She thought back to the time that Jake Sisko and Chief O’Brien had accidentally implemented a Cardassian defence program still in place from back when the station had been Terok Nor, and Garak chiding Dukat for trying to impress her even then, and pointing out the obvious fact that she had better taste. This new revelation of their ‘relationship’ would put that particular conversation in a whole new light.

When she shared this thought with Bashir, he grinned even wider.

“We need to get Garak involved,” he stated. “I’ll talk to him, convince him to pretend to be your lover when Dukat’s around – what do you say?”

She grinned as well. “I’m in,”

Humans say that if you talk of the devil he will appear, and sure enough at that moment Garak walked into the infirmary.

“Major Kira,” he deadpanned. “I’ve just had the most _interesting_ conversation with Dukat.”

“Is that right?” she raised an eyebrow. Garak was alright, really. When interacting with Dukat, he was downright menacing. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Bashir still grinning. “I trust you spared no insults.”

“Oh, no. He told me you’d see sense sooner or later; he seemed to be under the impression that we are, ah, _intimate._ ”

“Funny, I wonder how that happened.” Kira kept her face impassive. Sure, Garak was alright, but she still wasn’t keen on being the one to tell him what she’d done. Bashir could take care of that.

Sure enough, the doctor came to her rescue. “She told him it was the case,” he moved to stand closer to the man, placing a hand on his arm. “Dukat tried to hit on her so she told him she’s involved with you to rile him up.”

After a few moments, presumably of consideration, Garak relaxed and then almost smiled: “Excellent.”

“And it’s my opinion that now the two of you have got to keep up the charade,” Bashir continued, and Garak whipped around to face him so quickly she thought his neck might have snapped.

“I don’t think so,” he said after the look of shock cleared off his face. “No offence intended, Major, but I do not wish to engage with you in such a manner,”

“Nor I you, Garak – none taken, but this will be under false pretences.”

“Please,” Bashir fixed Garak with an intense gaze. “I’ll–” he stopped, looked at her, then leaned in and whispered something in Garak’s ear, and Kira was sure she did not want to know, for a darker tinge infused Garak’s neck as Bashir spoke, and Ziyal had told her what that meant for a Cardassian.

“ _Doctor!_ ” Garak looked almost scandalised. “Such _inappropriate_ language in the workplace!” Then he regained his composure. “Very well – I’ll participate.”

Kira decided she _definitely_ didn’t want to know what Bashir had promised to do.

Garak stepped forward and hovered a tentative hand over her arm, but didn’t quite manage to make contact. “If you are agreeable would you care to join me for dinner at Quark’s in five hours?” After a pause, he added: “my dear.”

“I’d be delighted,” she nodded and smiled awkwardly. This would all be worth it.

“I’ll see to it that Dukat is there to be a witness,” Bashir was _still_ grinning. “Now, if you will excuse us, Major.”

Of course. The Doctor had a promise to keep. She drained the rest of her raktajino, nodded to both of them and left the office. As the door closed behind her she heard Bashir command it to lock.

 

*

 

“Dukat!” Julian shouted across the busy promenade as he ran to catch up.

“What do you want?” Dukat demanded, turning on him.

“I, uh…” Julian tried for a nervous stammer. “To have a drink tonight? Lament over Kira’s disinterest together?”

“I thought it was Dax you had relentlessly pursued?” Dukat narrowed his eyes, and Julian wondered how he knew about that embarrassing piece of Julian’s past.

“No, it’s Nerys. She rejected me.” He dramatically clamped a hand over his heart. “I thought we might bond over it.” He wanted to cringe at his own words, at the thought Dukat might believe this is what he wanted.

An almost manic laugh. “You have a habit of befriending the exiles who end up here, don’t you, doctor?”

“Garak?” he tried to keep the fondness out of his voice. “ _That arsehole?_ ”

Dukat raised an eye ridge. “When Kira told me he was involved with someone besides my daughter I honestly expected her to say it was you.”

“Me?” Julian tried to sound shocked, and imagined himself with Dukat instead, in order to try and project disgust. “With that _traitor_?”

This seemed to satisfy Dukat. “In that case…”

“How does Quark’s at nineteen hundred hours sound?” Julian asked. That would give them half an hour to ‘settle in’ before the happy couple would arrive.

“I’ll see you then.” Dukat turned and stalked away.

After making certain that Dukat wouldn’t see him, he went to his beloved’s shop and slipped into the workroom.

“He’s agreed,” he announced by way of greeting, then moved to sit on Elim’s knee – a decidedly Human gesture, apparently, but one which the Cardassian seemed to like – interrupting the alterations of a dress. Arms came around his body and he leaned back into the embrace and the cool lips on his neck. “He seems to have bought the idea that I wanted to bond with him over unrequited love for Kira and our mutual distaste for you.”

“How distasteful you must find me,” Elim kissed his way down the smooth neck. “allowing me this contact with you.”

Julian made a pleasured noise in agreement, taking Elim’s hands in his own.

“A lot of people seem to be into Kira these days, don’t they, my dear?” Elim laughed lightly. “First Dukat, then me, and now you… and lest we forget, Quark. Who, by the way, has agreed to arrange our table to be near yours, for three strips of latinum.”

“Good old Quark,” Julian twisted around so he was facing Elim, and draped his arms over his lover’s shoulders. He let his voice drop. “If Dukat could see us now…”

“He would be appalled at your poor taste,” Elim smiled broadly. “If he were talking about your taste in literature or food he’d be right.”

“My taste in literature and food are both excellent,” Julian actually giggled. “As is my taste in romantic partners.” He closed the distance between their lips.

 

*

 

An hour later, they lay cuddled up – something Garak had never done before he got together with Julian, it made him too vulnerable, but for some reason with this particular person he felt completely comfortable and safe. It didn’t make sense, but then again love rarely did, and since he was no longer engaged in covert or high-risk Order operations, it mattered less – on the floor of the workroom, kissing languidly.

“This is a habit we really must break, my dear,” Garak finally said as he extracted himself and got to his feet. “if we don’t learn to make it to one of our quarters, your patients and my customers are going to start getting ideas.”

“That’s part of the thrill,” Julian joined him on his feet as he gathered their scattered clothes, and Garak did not spare his gaze on the beautiful, _smooth_ body before him, that tiny frame that held so much strength…

“Oh, I do so enjoy being able to _have_ you in my office,” Julian continued, as he shrugged into his uniform. “Being able to –”

“That’s _enough_ , my dear,” Garak cut him off. “Or we’ll end up naked on the floor again. I really must finish this dress before I meet Kira tonight, and you need to get back to the infirmary.”

“Indeed,” Julian reached a hand behind his back to zip up the uniform and Garak swatted it away, taking the task upon himself. “You might call her Nerys tonight,” Julian suggested, and Garak froze mid-movement.

“And I suppose I should tell her to call me Elim?” he finished the zip and turned Julian to face him.

“You’re on a date, it makes sense.”

“But we aren’t _really_ on a date, and we aren’t really a couple; my dear Julian, you know how _private_ Cardassian first names are. Even if I were willing to reveal my name to the Major, she would not use it with me in public.”

“But she’s a Bajoran, and they use their names more freely. You know that, Elim.”

Pleased to hear his lover referring to him in such a way, especially given the context their conversation, Garak took a moment to kiss him, somewhat possessively, cupping a hand around the back of his neck.

“Does Dukat know your given name?” Julian asked when they parted, a little breathless.

Garak blinked several times and practically spat the words “ _no, of course not!”_

“So lie – that is your speciality, after all.”

He blinked again, and Julian continued: “Give Nerys a false name to call you by – Dukat will be under the impression you and her are that intimate, all the while protecting your secret.”

“My dear Doctor, I do believe you are learning,” Garak squeezed Julian’s shoulder.

“I had the best tutor,” Julian smiled that gorgeous smile of his and leaned into the neck rub the way Garak had shown him – not an easy feat for a non-Cardassian to accomplish and Garak was impressed at the Human’s aptitude.

“Now, we really must get on,” Garak pulled away reluctantly. “I’ll see you tonight in my quarters.”

 

*

 

Dukat had been somewhat surprised to hear that Dr Bashir shared his less than favourable view of Garak – certainly it had not always been the case – but was pleased. Maybe there was hope for the younger man after all.

And maybe, if things went well tonight, they’d both have someone with whom they could relieve their frustration with the Major. When deciding what to wear, he had deliberately chosen something which would expose more of his neck ridges than was strictly appropriate.

On his home planet he could have been arrested for such indecency in public, but he wasn’t on Cardassia Prime now – the treacherous Damar and his co-conspirator Weyoun had seen to that – and he knew that Humans, Bajorans and the other species on the station did not share the Cardassian view towards that particular part of their anatomy.

With luck, Doctor Bashir would get his point, and with even more luck, Major Kira would see them together and, out of jealousy, finally give into the desire he was certain she felt for him – but she was stubborn, that one.

At any rate, he was sure had better taste than to liaise with _Garak_. It was all some elaborate ploy. It had to be.

Bashir was already sitting at the bar, deep in conversation with Morn, when Dukat entered Quark’s. The Doctor looked up and waved him over, patting the seat beside him, as he’d noticed Humans were inclined to do.

“What’ll it be?” Quark asked, the usual annoying glint in his eye.

“Kanar,” Dukat responded brusquely. Of _course_ it would be kanar, as far as he knew no other Cardassian alcoholic drinks were served above the pathetically named _Deep Space Nine._ Stupid Ferengi.

“Coming right up,” Quark reached under the counter. “I hope you didn’t forget to bring some gold-pressed latinum along. This stuff isn’t cheap.”

“It’s on me.” Bashir finally left Morn’s side to join him. “We have a lot to talk about. Shall we?”

“Lead the way,” Dukat flashed a smile he hoped was predatory. Bashir picked up his own drink and headed to a table. They sat down across from each other and he took a sip of his kanar, fixing the Human with an intense gaze.

They talked about Kira for a while. Dukat tried several times to steer the topic of conversation towards Garak, but each time Bashir brought it very quickly back to the Major. They had actually just gotten on to the subject of Morn (everyone liked the talkative Lurian, and Dukat found he had great difficulty being an exception to that rule, try as he might) when Kira and Garak walked in, their fingers intertwined, and stole his attention.

As he watched, a Ferengi waiter guided them to a secluded corner, and soon Bashir looked up to see what had captivated him. All conversation halted. The two apparent lovers sat at the same side of the table – a Bajoran habit, he had discovered as much from his comfort women during the occupation (he briefly considered telling Kira about her mother) – ordered food, and touched lightly during the meal. At one point, he was sure he even heard Garak refer to her as Nerys. _Disgusting._

Little did any of them know, Odo was a chair at one of the nearby tables.

 

*

 

Ziyal found she couldn’t help but grin as she took a quick water shower and blow-dried her hair. She’d been playing racket ball twice a week with Sito Anaro, a Bajoran woman about her age who was one of the few she’d met at the university who had felt completely comfortable around her despite her paternal heritage, and who had moved aboard the station not long after Ziyal had returned and the Dominion had left.

Recently she had found herself falling in love with the other woman, and felt, as she’d heard Julian had put it, ‘butterflies in her stomach’ – a curious expression if ever there was one, but somehow it made sense. Her door chimed, and she found herself hoping Anaro was on the other side of it.

However, when she opened it she discovered her father standing there, looking incredibly glum, was unsteady on his feet and smelled strongly of alcohol.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, taking him by the arm and guiding him to her sofa – they did not share quarters, she was an adult now. She had become increasingly disillusioned with him recently given some of his actions, but she couldn’t bear to see him this upset. Besides, she reasoned, he probably couldn’t be worse than Garak had been – could he? Truthfully she wasn’t sure.

“Kira and Garak,” he said, as though that was an explanation. He didn’t even bother to inject any hatred into his voice when he said the name of his fellow exile, which further iterated how tired he sounded.

“What about them?” she asked, earning her an incredulous look.

“You don’t know they’re courting?” her father asked.

 _Kira and Garak?_ She thought, confused. Garak and Bashir had been on and off for years, or so they had told her, and last she heard they were going pretty strong just now. And Kira, well, Ziyal was fairly sure she had her eye on the Constable, although the Major was yet to admit that to her.

“Oh, that,” she agreed. There might be a reason why her father believed this to be the case, and she sure as the fire caves wasn’t going to be the one to fuck it up. “Yeah, I forgot about that. Why are you looking so dejected over it?”

“I wanted Kira to be with me,” he grumbled, his words slurring a little. “I think we make such a good team, and she’s such a handsome woman.”

Ziyal tried not to scoff. “ _If_ she _ever_ feels that way about you, I’m sure she’ll let you know,” she offered. _Not that she ever will,_ she added in her mind. “Come on, let’s get you back to your own quarters.”

 

*

 

When Odo slipped into the chair across their usual breakfast table from Garak, he knew he was even quieter than usual, and he didn’t even bother to fabricate himself a ‘drink’.

“Good morning, Constable,” Garak seemed to be in high spirits as he took another bite of his food before setting his fork down on his plate. Odo nodded politely, but said nothing. He was still trying to get his head around the idea of Kira being with this man.

“Is something the matter?” Garak asked.

“No, no – I’m sorry,” he shook his ‘head’ and extended his ‘hand’ into the shape of a mug. “I’m just glad she’s happy.” He hadn’t meant to say that, but it was too late – he wasn’t his best today. Garak squinted at him for a moment, then realisation seemed to dawn on his face.

“Ah, you mean Major Kira.” Garak said quickly, “you saw us last night.” He had an air of consideration about him.

Odo felt his ‘head’ shoot up and he widened his ‘eyes’ – and noted briefly how humanoid he appeared to be becoming. After they’d finished eating the night before, they’d left Quark’s with their arms linked, and Odo had stayed to hear Dukat and Bashir declare their plans to get roaring drunk, then slowly shifted himself into a rat and scurried away. He had locked himself in his office and spent the night trying really hard not to imagine Kira and Garak ravishing each other, and wondered how he would face his breakfast companion in a few hours. He’d considered cancelling, but he’d been determined not to give himself away.

A grand job he’d done of that.

He knew about Dukat’s interest in Kira, so _his_ reaction made sense, and he knew Bashir and Garak had been a couple the last he checked, so he assumed they’d recently broken up and therefore _his_ reaction also made sense. What he did find baffling was that they had reacted this way _together._ Did Bashir consider this man a friend now?

“You’re in love with Kira.” Garak concluded, and Odo nodded weakly.

“Then, I…” Garak seemed to be weighing up several options in his mind, then leaned forward conspiratorially. “Think you should know, but you cannot tell anyone.”

“You do not need to worry about me spilling your secrets,” Odo huffed. “But I don’t know why you think I would want to know the details. It’s her decision, and her happiness is all that’s important.”

“Kira and I are not courting,” Garak whispered, and it took Odo a moment to process this.

“Not… you…” it wasn’t often that he found himself at a loss for words, but this was one of those times. “Then why, last night?”

“That, Constable, I cannot tell you, but rest assured she is quite unattached, and I am still very much involved with our good chief medical officer, who, for the record, was in on our little deception.” And with that he casually continued eating his breakfast, and Odo sat in a silence that could only be described as stunned.

 

*

 

Ops was quiet this afternoon. Sisko, O’Brien, Dax and Worf were all on a mission to the Gamma quadrant, so aside from a few junior officers kicking about, it was pretty much only Kira and Bashir. Which was fortunate, because they had much to discuss.

“So, how was your _date_ last night?” Bashir asked, side-stepping up to Kira and nudging her gently in the side with his elbow.

“Oh, wonderful; what a loving, sexy man I have!” She declared, then laughed. “Okay, it was really weird, didn’t you think so?”

“I trust Garak,” he said, then screwed up his face and laughed at the thought of how he would have reacted had he been told that a few years ago. “Okay, I trust him insofar as fidelity is concerned and I trust you. It was worth it to see the look on Dukat’s face.”

She laughed more genuinely then. “I don’t know how much longer I can keep it up. When we touch I know he’s imagining that I am you, and I’m imagining that he’s, well – the person I’m interested in. This isn’t sustainable. Neither of us are particularly comfortable with that aspect of this little game we’re playing.”

“And he’s certainly not comfortable referring to you as Nerys.” Julian added. “What first name did he tell you to call him by, by the way?”

“That’s a strange thing to be squeamish about.” Kira furrowed her brow. “And he said his given name is Corat, didn’t you know that?”

“Cardassians treat their first names like a secret to be shared with only their closest family and their significant other,” Julian explained, and couldn’t help but notice how delighted and privileged he felt at the fact that Elim had maintained his decision to honour this particular tradition. “I do know it, and it isn’t Corat. It was actually my idea that he could give you a false name, since for you as a Bajoran it would be odd not to use first names on a date.”

“I had no clue,” Kira admitted, the surprise did show on her face. “You aren’t going to tell me his real name, are you?”

“No,” Julian again felt that fuzzy warmth and delight at the love he shared with this man.

“And what about you?” Kira asked, partially changing the subject. “How was your evening with Dukat?”

“Uncomfortable. Really uncomfortable. Mostly we talked about you, since I was lying the whole way through, and lost love I can do, even if I’m pretending, I can mope about lost love and it doesn’t really matter who I am or supposedly am in love with. But he kept wanting to bad-mouth Garak, and that I… just couldn’t do. I was really worried I was going to let slip.”

“We really can’t keep it up long,” Kira repeated.

“Can’t keep what up?” Sisko’s voice drifted across ops as he and the rest of his away team stepped off the turbolift and made their way to their respective stations.

“Uhm.” Kira looked a little flustered, and for a moment Julian thought she was going to be honest. “Nothing important, Captain.”

“Well as long as it won’t interfere with your duties, whatever it is.” Sisko’s tone was light and casual, but laced with a guarded warning. It had taken on this layer very frequently as of late. Everyone was on edge and while Julian thought sharing the joke might cheer everyone up a little bit, he wasn’t sure Sisko would take too kindly to the actual implementation of it. With a polite nod to Kira, he notified everyone that he would be in the infirmary, and vacated ops.

 

*

 

“May I join you?”

Kira looked to see Ziyal standing by the table she currently occupied. “Of course,” she smiled at the younger woman, and turned off her padd, setting it down.

“So, you and Garak.” It wasn’t really a question or a statement, in fact Kira wasn’t really sure what exactly it was. She had pondered how to broach this subject with Ziyal – she was like a little sister to Kira, and she was a good friend of both Garak and Bashir, but she was also Dukat’s daughter, and Kira wasn’t really sure whether or not she should be involved in this.

“Tell me, then, what’s his given name?” Ziyal asked, leaning forward.

The name ‘Corat’ was on the tip of Kira’s tongue – but that wasn’t really his name. Of course, it was probable Ziyal didn’t know that, but if this was some kind of test, then his actual name wasn’t what she was trying to ascertain.

“You know I can’t tell you that,” she said instead.

Ziyal looked shocked, but recovered quickly. “That still doesn’t prove it’s true, but it seems strange you would know of this custom if it weren’t.”

“What makes you doubt it?” Kira asked.

“Well, for one you were never overly fond of Garak, and I didn’t think you even considered each other a friend, much less anything else; and for another I know the signs of Cardassian courtship in its different stages, and I know how much he’s in love with Julian.”

 _A perceptive one,_ _that one,_ Kira thought. “Well, believe it.”

“And this isn’t some big ruse to piss off my father?” Ziyal asked, and Kira tried to hide how shocked she was. _That,_ she didn’t expect Ziyal to pick up on. Apparently she waited too long to respond, because Ziyal grinned and sat back. “I _knew_ it!”

Kira half expected to be told off for being so cruel, but in actual fact that was simply the end of that conversation, it seemed.

“So now I know you and Garak aren’t an item, what’s going on with you and Odo?”

“Ziyal…” Kira was lost for words.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell my father the truth. Now, Odo.”

Seeing as her friend wasn’t going to back down, Kira decided to simply be honest. “I don’t know how things stand with Odo at the moment… we spent hours at Dax’s pre-wedding party discussing everything that happened while the Dominion was here, and Odo betraying us, betraying Rom – but I’m still feeling rocky about him.”

“I think you just need time to heal,” Ziyal suggested. “After that, then what?”

“I don’t know.” Kira admitted, and Ziyal sighed a sigh that rang heavily with defeat. She had been pestering Kira about her relationship with Odo for weeks now, and the younger woman probably thought she was a lost cause. Oh well, that was her prerogative.

 

***

 

The charade went on for another week and a half. Ziyal had honoured her promise to keep Dukat in the dark; Garak and Kira had been deliberately spending time with each other in public places – and had an arrangement to make them both feel more comfortable with the physical contact which was required of their roles in this game – while Garak and Bashir had had to avoid the exact same thing – Bashir was wearing exclusively replicated clothes, and, well, Garak never went to the infirmary anyway, but Quark was sure that when they were alone in one of their quarters things were very different. Quark was the only one who enjoyed imagining these kinds of goings-on. Bashir and Quark had both played their parts in seeing to it that Dukat was in strategic positions to witness the happy couple’s public appearances, and his reactions did not disappoint.

They were all having a lot of fun, besides Dukat of course, and perhaps were getting too carried away. This first became evident when Dukat had come into the infirmary and grabbed Julian by the shoulders, pushing him against a wall. After the initial shock wore off Julian pushed him away, and he’d tried to come back, obviously taking the resistance as a form of encouragement. Julian had been disgusted and Dukat had glowered when he’d ended up on the floor thanks to Julian’s hidden strength.

“I thought we _had_ something!” The statement was exaggerated and dramatic in its delivery but there was plain hurt written on Dukat’s face. Well – perhaps hurt wasn’t quite the right word, it sounded too soft. Hurt mixed with rage. “I thought we had each other to alleviate our loneliness.”

“We _never_ had anything,” Julian spat, finally allowing the disgust to peek through his well-practised, carefully-neutral façade. He came very close to launching into a full-blown rant about how terrible all those evenings they’d spent together had been, how much he hated having to pretend he didn’t love Garak, how awful it was not being able to be seen in public with him and how much it had cut back the time they were able to spend together. But he’d held himself back, forced himself to regain his composure, and realised that none of those things were Dukat’s fault, that he’d brought this on himself and that what had initially been a harmless prank had escalated and gotten way out of hand without them realising it. They had to put an end to it immediately.

He’d offered a hand to help Dukat up, then firmly and calmly told him that there was no future in a sexual or romantic relationship between them, and that was that. There was a barely concealed fury in Dukat’s eyes as he’d left the infirmary. _Shit._

Kira had similarly discovered that they’d taken it too far when the door of her quarters chimed and she found Dukat on the threshold of the room when she’d opened it. He’d pushed his way in and told her that he knew she definitely wanted him more than she wanted Garak – _interesting_ , he’d remarked as his gaze swept around the room, _I don’t see many of your lover’s possessions lying around._

“I want you,” he’d told her. “Why do you resist me so?”

“Because you disgust me,” she spat. “Get out of my quarters.” That, at least, had nothing to do with their prank – she’d always reacted this way to his advances, even before they’d taken on an uncomfortably sexual overtone.

“If Garak’s out of the picture, will you come to me?” He’d asked, and she felt a lump forming in her throat. How exactly did he intend to remove Garak from the picture? She’d grabbed him by the arm and pushed with all her strength until he stumbled out into the corridor and she commanded her door to lock. He had run at it, attempting to get back through, but failed. _Shit,_ she thought. _He’s obsessed with me._ The prank itself wasn’t the root of the problem, since she could have been dating someone for real and Dukat would still have reacted badly if he was going to react badly at all, but she wasn’t dating anyone and apparently the prank had now put Garak at risk – it had gone too far.

“Kira to security,” she almost shouted, whacking her comm badge.

“Odo here,” that lovely voice, she – could worry about that later.

“Odo, where’s Garak?” she asked, and could hear the panic in her own voice. “You need to find him; I have reason to believe he’s in danger.”

“I’ll get on it right away, Major. Thank you for letting me know.” And then the channel went silent.

 

*

 

“Hello, Garak,” Quark put on his amicable serving-customers voice. “No Kira with you tonight?”

“No,” Garak’s voice was stiff.

“How about a nice Warp-Core Breach to sooth that tension in your voice?” Quark offered, removing the necessary bottles from the shelves under the counter and beginning to mix the drink without waiting for a response. Once it was made, Garak would have to pay for it anyway.

“Why not?” Garak huffed, and dropped onto a bar stool

“Are you going to share what’s bothering you, then?” Quark asked.

“Not with you.” Garak replied curtly.

“Whatever floats your boat,” Quark shrugged. “As long as it leaves me with latinum in my hands.” And with that, he pushed the tailor’s drink towards him and turned to serve another customer.

“Whatever – what?” Garak asked. “I’m not sure the translator picked up on that?”

“Whatever floats your boat,” he repeated. “It’s a Human expression – I don’t really understand where it came from but it means whatever makes you happy.” If he was expecting a response, he was to be disappointed. The Cardassian slumped over the bar, his head resting on his arms.

“How about a trip to the holosuite?” Quark tried. “How about a nice massage from a beautiful –”

Garak harrumphed and stalked away, leaving his drink untouched.

“I haven’t got a clue what that was about,” he said to himself. He looked at Morn, who fixed him with a stare. “Go on, have it,” Quark gestured at the Warp-Core Breach.

 

*

 

It was Morn who actually discovered the cause of Garak’s bad mood. As it turned out, Dukat had attempted to initiate _physical_ intimacy with Doctor Bashir, and Garak was angry with himself, with Bashir and Kira for deciding to play this whole prank in the first place – Morn knew about the prank, Quark had confided in him, but he was given a full briefing by the probably-slightly-drunk tailor – angry at Quark for participating, angry at Ziyal for not discouraging it, angry at Odo for not investigating further, not figuring out what was going on and similarly discouraging it, angry at the Dominion for leaving Dukat behind on the station and angry at Dukat for merely existing.

Garak had accosted Morn when the Lurian had finally left the bar, dragged him into his shop and ranted about the whole situation.

“I don’t know why I feel you’re inherently trustworthy, Morn,” he’d said. “But the fact of the matter is that I do. I love Julian, I love him with every fibre of my being, I owe him my life a dozen times over, probably. I should never have agreed to him being left with Dukat in this.”

Things got around fast on this station, and everyone confided in Morn. He knew that Garak subsisted off lies, half-truths and deceit. He knew that few people trusted him as a result. And yet, here he was pouring his heart out over some prank. If it was anything, it was surreal.

               

*

 

Shortly after Morn’s departure, Garak had sat down at his desk and decided to try and clear his mind by making something – he decided on a pair of trousers for Julian. He picked out a beautiful, smooth fabric in a colour he thought would suit his beloved, marked out a pattern, and began to cut.

He didn’t know exactly when his vision had begun to blur, when drowsiness had started to take over, or when his third bottle of kanar had slipped from his fingers and fallen to the floor, smashing into pieces and spilling blue liquid which was now seeping into the carpet.

He didn’t know how long he’d been unconscious, but when he awoke he discovered his surroundings had changed – now he was in the infirmary, and he could hear Julian and the nurses speaking in hurried voices, using medical terms he didn’t know.

As his vision sharpened, the blurred shapes in his line of sight swam into view – the faces of Odo and Kira, distorted with worry.

“What… happened?” he asked weakly. Within seconds he felt familiar, warm, _smooth_ hands clasp his own, and Julian’s face appeared beside those of the Constable and the Major, though slightly closer to his face.

“You’ve been poisoned. We managed to get a sample of kanar off the floor and found traces of voraxna poison.” Julian explained.

“Dukat,” Garak hissed.

“Fortunately, I suspected he may attempt something like this,” Kira added. “He visited my quarters and tried to persuade me to change my mind about him, about you. He said perhaps I would be more open to the idea of being with him if you were out of the picture.”

“So she alerted me, and we got to you just in time. You’re in stable condition.” Odo concluded. “I have Dukat in a holding cell.”

Garak closed his eyes, trying to process this – it had been coming since the entire escapade had begun, he guessed, but now everything seemed so sudden. He opened his eyes again and gazed up at Julian. _I love you,_ he didn’t want to verbalise the words in front of others, but Julian squeezed his hand, and Garak knew he got the message. _I love you too._

*

 

“Odo to Captain Sisko,” the Constable’s voice rang through his communicator, interrupting the report he was in the process of trying to write. With a sigh, he pressed on the device.

“Sisko here, what is it?”

“I think perhaps you should come down to my office, there’s something you should know.”

“I’m on my way,” he saved the report and dropped his padd onto the desk, perhaps with a little too much force. Could nobody on the station get along without him today?

 

Kira and Odo were sitting on either side of the desk when he arrived in security, and they stopped talking the moment the door slid open, and looked up at him.

“What can I do for you both?” he asked, aware of his own clipped tone.

“I’ve had to arrest… uh, someone,” Odo explained. “That I thought you should know about. Also, he’s demanding to speak to you.”

Sisko felt another weight being added to the already heavy load on his shoulders. He knew the Constable wouldn’t be calling him here if he didn’t have. “Who is it?”

“Uh, perhaps you should see for yourself.” Odo stood and led him into the holding cells, Kira followed closely behind them. Sisko had never heard Odo sound so… _uncertain._ He wasn’t sure who this person was, but whoever he was expecting, it wasn’t…

“Dukat!” he knew he shouldn’t really be surprised. The ex-Gul wasn’t exactly happy about being here, nor was anyone happy he was here. He didn’t expect Dukat to go out of his way to make life on the station pleasant for anyone. “What did you do?” he dreaded to think.

“I did nothing! This is preposterous!” Dukat protested. “That changeling has it out for me!”

“He attempted to kill Garak,” Kira informed him. Well _that_ wasn’t surprising.

“I did nothing of the sort! I wouldn’t lose any sleep over that pathetic traitor’s death but neither would I go out of my way to see that it happened.”

“Nor I suppose waste any of your precious voraxna supply on him?” Odo suggested. “The poison we found laced through his kanar is the same Cardassia IV-grown variety you used to try and assassinate Legate Ghemor, or had you forgotten about that?”

“Circumstantial evidence!” Dukat snarled. “You still can’t prove I did it.”

"You think I didn’t have my deputies search your quarters?” Odo asked, an almost smug quality through his voice.

“And you practically _told me_ you were going to.” There was hatred in Kira’s voice.

“Ah, yes, your dear _lover._ You must be _heartbroken_ if he’s dead _”_ Dukat taunted.

 _Garak? Kira’s lover? That can’t be right._ Sisko sent the Major a questioning look, but she merely shook her head slightly.

"He’s not dead,” she told Dukat, almost gloating at his failure. “Thanks to you warning me that you planned to kill him, we got him to the infirmary in time.”

“And Bashir _saved his life_ despite how much he hates him?”

 _Bashir hates Garak?_ Sisko thought, even more confused now. He had been sure Bashir loved Garak, would have gone so far as to say he was _in_ love with him. Clearly something was going on that Sisko had completely missed.

“He’s a Doctor – he does his job. His personal feelings don’t come into it.” Kira snapped, turning and stalking from the room, Sisko hot on her heels. Once they were back in Odo’s office, safely out of Dukat’s earshot, he turned on her.

“I think you have some explaining to do, Major.”

“Dukat thinks I’m Garak’s lover because I told him I am. I’m not. Julian is, and the two of them were in on this prank. Dukat thinks Julian hates Garak because _he_ told him _that.”_ Major Kira, as blunt and straight-forward as ever. “ _But_ his attempt to kill Garak had nothing to do with it – he’s become obsessed with me, his desire for me is one of the few things he has left and it could just as easily have been a real lover of mine.”

As if to emphasise the end of her explanation, she thumped down into the nearest chair, crossing her legs and arms.

“I… see.” Sisko said after what felt like an eternity processing this. He wasn’t really sure how it was most appropriate for him to respond. “And you thought playing a prank on Dukat was wise?” he asked. Kira looked suitably sheepish in response – though that look was transitory.

“Perhaps not, but he still did what he did of his own volition.”

“Very well. I’ll let you all off with a warning this time,” Sisko didn’t try to feign patience now. “But I do _not_ want to hear that any of you are involved in games of this nature in the future.”

“Yes, Captain.” Kira inclined her head.

“Good, be sure to pass the message along.” And with that, he left security and headed to his quarters – he needed to lie down.

 

*

 

Three days after the attempt on Garak’s life, Julian was satisfied that all the poison had passed out of his system and posed no further threat, and finally released him from the infirmary. For the first time in two weeks, they wandered together along the promenade, fingers entwined, and if any passers-by were curious about Garak’s sudden change in company – or at least, his reversion to his original company – they were polite enough not to say anything.

He’d fully expected how refreshing it would feel, and although part of him regretted that Dukat would not see, it had been unanimously agreed that telling him the truth could only make things worse. Besides, at the end of the day, Dukat wasn’t the one he cared about – Elim was.

They were on the second level, and stopped just by the windows which were the favourite of many for viewing the wormhole. It was late at night, so it was reasonably deserted; therefore, Julian did not think Elim would mind a little more than just holding hands.

He turned away from the spectacular view to one even more entrancing and beautiful: gazing deeply into those startlingly blue eyes, he leaned back against the wall, pulling Elim close by the waist and leaning in to kiss him, just as the wormhole burst open and sent blue and orange sparks flying across the black sky.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to use this fic to explore Ziyal (and the love interest I invented for her, Sito Anaro) a bit more, but I didn't think there was quite enough room in this one to do that as amply as I wanted to so I'm in the process of writing a semi-sequel which focuses on her, and as a result will briefly go into what happens to Dukat after his arrest, since it will affect her since he's her dad. I will link it here when I post it.


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